


Song For Someone

by justtopostmyfic



Series: Backseat Comfort: Hurty Tony [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Peter Feels, Protective Peter Parker, Sick Tony, Sick Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-12-05 00:52:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11566905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justtopostmyfic/pseuds/justtopostmyfic
Summary: Peter finds himself in Tony's bed. Not under circumstances he fantasized about, but under circumstances Tony needs him there for.(Not under Tony either.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you read Part 1 in the Backseat Comfort series first, this will appear less smutty and more relationship-driven.

Peter blinked at the unfamiliar belt buckle in his hands, feeling every ounce of its full weight. He couldn't believe what he was about to do, and hoped that Tony wouldn't remember any of this in the morning, for the sake of the genius' dignity.

He lifted his gaze to Tony's pale, sweaty face, his half-lidded eyes that seemed to barely register Peter standing right in front of him. Tony was so disoriented from the migraine meds that Happy had discreetly pressed into his palm when they entered the penthouse, or maybe it was from the migraine itself. 

Miraculously, the two of them made it up to the bedroom, only for Peter to find himself staring at a wobbly Tony braced up against a wall, lacking the fine motor skills to undress himself. 

For a little while, it was a toss up between who was more helpless: Tony for struggling to unbuckle his belt, or Peter for knowing how awkward it would be to try and help. But then Tony yelped in frustrated pain, and Peter realized that the sick man had it a lot worse, so he quickly stepped in front of him to assist.

He stilled his hands over the unyielding belt, took a deep breath, then pushed Tony's belt strap through the buckle with steady hands while his insides quivered inappropriately. 

When Peter lightly yanked Tony against him to unseat the buckle tongue from the notch it rested in, he groaned inwardly at the instant tent-pole in his own pants. But really, what did he expect? 

Here he was stripping the pants off Tony Stark, the man he had a crush on for longer than he could remember, who was panting ragged breaths hot against his forehead, and who had at that moment just planted both his hands against Peter's shoulders for support.

Peter knew this would be uncomfortable, but at least he was the only one in the situation who was lucid enough to be embarrassed. And hopefully the only one who would remember. He was acutely conscious of how intimate and suggestive their position was and his face heated with embarrassment, while relieved that Tony was too out of it to notice Peter's bulging pants.

If nothing else, he could just blame his erection on being a teenager.

Maybe this would be easier if he did _not_ look up at Tony's face.

With the belt unbuckled, Peter unbuttoned the pants next, accidentally skimming his fingers against Tony's belly beneath the shirt. He unzipped carefully, and couldn't fight the thrill from the slow, unraveling motion.

Tony was nearly arched over him by this point, his hands still anchored tightly on Peter's shoulders.

"Steady, Tony, I got you. Bed sounds really good now, huh?" Peter cooed as though coaxing a child to bed, in spite of his actions and how inappropriately he was feeling for the older man.

Tony barely groaned a response, and Peter glanced up quickly to see unfocused eyes still heavy-lidded with pain and a drowsy head hovering limply over him.

Peter began to tug down on the pants, pushing the fabric off the curve of Tony's ass. It was like undressing a rigid mannequin, albeit one that was warm, and soft and firm in the right places.

Damn Tony's dress sense and these well-fitted pants. They were not going to fall easily to the floor and would have to be peeled off. 

Gently, he relocated Tony's hands from his shoulders one at a time, guiding them to splay against the wall Tony's back was pressed against.

As Peter skimmed the pants down Tony's bare legs, he was determined not to stare straight at the exposed black silk boxers or the faint outline of Tony's respectably limp dick right at his eye level, mere inches from his face.

Instead, he tried to distract himself by musing how he did not imagine Tony as a silk boxers wearing kind of guy, but that was not a good idea. At all.

With the pants pooled in a puddle around Tony's ankles, _the deed finished_ , Peter stood back up and gently eased Tony off the wall, taking his hand to guide him forward towards the bed, towards Peter. Tony stepped out of his pants gracelessly and stumbled against the teenager's smaller frame.

Peter caught Tony and awkwardly crab-walked backwards to drag him to bed. He needed to hold Tony upright, but he also really didn't want the near-unconscious man to press up close and feel his hard-on. It was the most uncomfortable twenty feet Peter had ever moved in his life.

Tony was also not helping matters by starting to mumble random nonsense, seemingly more coherent after he had been set in motion. Right when Peter was finally trying to put him to bed, sheesh. Peter thought he heard "anti-electron collisions" just as they crossed the last few arduous feet and he sat Tony down on the edge of the bed.

"I don't think that's a tested migraine cure." Peter whispered back absently, having no idea what the engineer was talking about.

With great difficulty, he maneuvered Tony to lie down in the middle of his massive bed, and Tony passed out like a light the second his head hit the fluffy pillow. 

With the dozing man settled, Peter tried to straighten up and crawl off the bed, but Tony wouldn't let go of Peter's hand. 

"Tony?" Peter tried to rouse him gently. 

Not a flicker of response.

"Tony, let g-" _Wait a minute,_ he _didn't_ want Tony to let go, so Peter gingerly laid down in bed beside him, accepting his fate like he was handcuffed. Tony had an iron grip on his hand and...of all the fantasies Peter harbored, he never thought he would be in Tony's bed under these peculiar and convoluted circumstances. 

Nothing was ever predictable with Tony, as Peter was quickly learning.

He would -well, they both would- deal with the awkwardness tomorrow when Tony wakes to find himself in only his boxers, t-shirt, and with Peter in his bed. 

Peter thought maybe he would jokingly offer to strip down to his boxers too, for solitude, when the morning-after would inevitably dawn on them. Maybe that would lighten the mood.

Please just let Tony assume he stripped off his own pants; Peter wouldn't be able to live this down if Tony _did_ remember. 

Was it considered gaslighting if Peter vehemently and insistently denied it if Tony asked? Because Peter didn't want to gaslight anyone.

If they ever got the chance to have a real first time undressing each other, when they were both willing and able-bodied and eager for something a lot more pleasurable, where a hard-on was expected instead of a cause for guilt and embarrassment, Peter fervently hoped that it would be a lot less clumsy than this time around. 

Even for someone as awkward as himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"You've got eyes that can see right through me /_  
>  _You're not afraid of anything they've seen."_  
>  -U2, Song for Someone

It was the most comfortable bed and the most luxuriously high-tech room that Peter had ever been in and, despite the jaw-dropping extravagance, he felt strangely comfortable. 

Almost like his brain didn't grasp that he was lying beside the famous billionaire Mr. Tony Stark, which he definitely would have freaked out about months ago. Or maybe it was _because_ of Tony that he felt so at ease, with what he knew now about the man. The human behind the genius behind the faceplate.

In his own bed, Peter's thoughts were always reckless and racing, yet lying beside a sleeping Tony in the darkness, he felt a rare calm wash over him, lapping intangibly at his feet, sweeping away the vestiges of his unwanted, ill-timed erection. 

The quiet warmth of Tony's presence was its own tranquilizer, just like in the car the previous time. Didn't matter if Tony was in sickness or stress or health, it turned out. Peter just wanted to be close to him.

Peter's cell phone was chucked face down on the bed, just out of his reach. As soon as he was able, he one-handedly texted May that he was sleeping over at Ned's to finish a big project (to which she replied back "K, larb uu"). As long as she wasn't worried, his obligations were met, and Peter had no more interest in using his phone. 

Right then, he didn't care about checking statuses and notifications from apps he opened too many times a day. Whatever was happening in the outside world seemed trivial, or rather, whatever people projected of themselves to the world. Everything else was so insignificant compared to Tony's presence and wellness.

Belatedly, he realized he didn't want to disturb the tranquil darkness with the harsh light of his phone either. 

The rare time Peter's phone wasn't glued to his palm was when he was lying beside Tony the technology revolutionist, because he was more content to bask in the quiet company of the man himself.

The irony was not lost on him. 

But why would Peter want to clutch a phone when Tony Stark was holding his hand?

\-----------------------------

At some point in the night, Tony released his grip of Peter's hand to press both his hands against his eye sockets.

Peter propped up worriedly on his elbows to survey Tony's anguished posture, his face looming over the sick man. It was painful even to look at how deeply the heels of his palms were digging into his eyes.

Cautiously, Peter reached a hand to rest lightly on Tony's chest, rubbing a thumb gently to soothe him. It felt forbidden and reverent to touch Tony when they were both lying in bed, to soak up the warmth of Tony's skin beneath the t-shirt. But Peter was more mature than his hormones, especially where Tony's health was concerned.

He could feel tremors wracking Tony's body, like he was sobbing silently in pain. The older man's shirt was damp, and he smelled faintly of sour stomach acid, but all Peter cared about was for Tony not to be hurting.

He was starting to get scared, seeing Tony like this.

_Where were his meds kept? How often could he take the pills? Never mind that, what time did he even take the first dose when they arrived at the penthouse- a little past ten?_

Peter felt an impotency of helplessness; Tony didn't even seem aware of his presence and his tactile attempt at being comforting.

That fit of agony passed, fortunately, before Peter could finish the litany of questions he didn't have answers to. Tony lowered his shaky hands from his eyes and his arms fell limply at his sides, long before Peter's thumb grew weary of stroking.

Bleary eyes gazed up at him for a brief second.

"Okay now?" Peter asked, sympathetically soft.

He was certain he saw Tony's head nod minutely before wet long lashes slid close against grey eye bags, and the older man drifted back into a hard-fought serenity. The teenager hitched a sigh of relief against his hand that still rested on Tony's chest.

Peter watch him nervously for a few more seconds, Tony's face now lax again from the renewed effect of the drugs, but deeply lined and stubbled. 

A few tears spilled out the corner of Tony's eyes into the pillow, their wet trails reflective in the low light. Peter wanted nothing more than to wipe the wetness from the side of Tony's face, but he resisted. 

He didn't have any right to help Tony in such an unnecessarily intimate way.

He wondered about all the hidden stresses that plagued Tony's mind and body that Peter didn't know about, that the genius probably never let on to anyone. 

_Had there ever been anyone in Tony's life who he shared everything with- all secrets and spaces?_

_Was there anyone in the past who occupied Tony's bed long-term?_

More questions Peter didn't know the answers to, and that Tony probably wouldn't divulge at this point in their relationship. They were still not all the way there yet, maybe?

Peter quieted his thoughts, then retracted his hand from Tony's chest and flopped quietly back on the bed.

On the bright side, Tony wasn't freaked out that Peter was in his bed, right? Either that or Tony was too spaced out to realize he was lying in bed, or that it was Peter with him from that brief glance in dim light. 

\-----------------------------

What must have been hours passed without any crises or distractions, and the stretch of time felt so peaceful, having his whole world framed by Tony. Lying still with his placid reveries and the older man, there was nothing Peter wanted, nothing he felt he needed.

He laid awake beside a sleeping Tony, both of them flat on their backs on top of the covers. Even beyond the darkened windows, he could make out the muted gradual lightening over the city skyline.

Peter replayed an ethereal melody silently in his head to remember this, to articulate everything he felt in these moments; how much he cared about Tony, and could possibly even grow to love him. 

An ambience, an idea, _a Song for Someone._

They were not touching anymore, except for the crook of their elbows. Peter's head was on his own fluffy pillow, and his other hand cupped the back of his neck. He did his best relaxing in that position.

Tony was making an muffled whiffling sound every time he exhaled, which was oddly endearing in the stillness before daybreak.

Most of all, he didn't seem to be in pain anymore. 

In that night, Peter didn't want to be in Tony's bed for any other reason besides knowing Tony was feeling better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Do you know your heart has its own mind?"  
> -U2, 13 (There Is A Light)
> 
> This song is an extension of the fic. Tell me if it moves you an inch.  
> (youtube.com/watch?v=qoyqIhTTjlU)


End file.
